Story of Seduction
by uninhibited.spirit
Summary: Devany: a young girl torn between her love for a Knight and her love for a Saxon. A story about how making a wrong decision could be fatal...but for who? please read and review...chapter 15 is up...finally!
1. Prologue

Disclaimers: I do not own anything, except a couple of my own characters. I'd also like to note that this is my first ever fan fiction, so I'm sorry if it isn't the best. If you have any suggestions or comments then please let me know. I hope you enjoy this

Epilogue

Cerdic's eyes wandered over the small quivering form in front of him. In all his years, through all of the people he had killed or even watched die, he found himself unable to do what he felt was necessary. For the first time in his life he felt for a victim of his wrath, he felt pity and sympathy. He hated these emotions and silently cursed himself for feeling them, but he simply couldn't shake them. Cerdic wanted to pull out his sword and do what he had always done in the past, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He lingered there a moment, he wanted to leave this place and the cowering child in front of him, yet at the same time he felt guilty that because of him the child was motherless. Part of him wanted to leave and never think back, but the other part of him wanted to look after the child, he felt as though it was his duty. After a few moments of self-conflict, he was interrupted by one of his soldiers who asked what would become of the child. Cerdic turned and looked at him impassively for a moment, " Bring her along." He ordered bluntly, before walking away.

3 months later

Cerdic ordered a scout to leave the child on the doorstep of the nearest village. He could no longer care for the child, it was arousing suspicion that he was weak, and faltering. He had spared the child and felt that his duty to the child was done. And as ordered the scout left the child outside a small hut on the outskirts of a small hunting village. The child was 7 years of age, she already had long, thick, wavy, chestnut hair and bright eyes. It was evident even at her young age, that she was beautiful, and of Mediterranean descent.

It wasn't until the early hours of the morning, when the hunters left to catch game for breakfast, that she was discovered crying and whimpering on the ground. A small woman, with long greying hair, and weathered skin, who's name was Mycenae sympathized with the young girl and adopted her and took her under her wing. Mycenae was a widow, who's husband had died many years ago during a hunting accident. She felt that this young girl would be exactly what she needed to take her mind off her infinite loneliness.

It wasn't long before the girl began to trust and open up to Mycenae. It was then that she learned the girls' true story. It was a horrifying tale of deceit and vile betrayal of life and love….


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimers: I do not own anything, except for a few of my own characters. Well, I got a review that said my epilogue was alright, so I figured I'd continue. If you have any comments or suggestions let me know.

Chapter 1:

It had been ten years since Mycenae had adopted the mysterious child as her own, the moment the young girl had shown up in her village Mycenae knew that she was destined to look after this child. She knew in her heart that if there was reason for her to be put on this earth it was to look after this child. Well now the child was seventeen years of age, so she was hardly a child anymore. Mycenae had deeply considered whether or not she would change the child's' name, and in the end she had, merely for the child's own safety. These lands weren't safe for foreigners, and her distinctive exotic appearance was a curse enough for her. So Mycenae had changed her name from Kabira to Devany. Mycenae thought it was appropriate considering it meant 'dark one'.

Mycenae always worried about Devany, and to ensure that she was kept busy and watched after, she had sought help from a group of Sarmatian Knights. Their fortress, Hadrian's Wall, was only minutes away. The knights who had known Mycenae for years had agreed to look after Devany, they had taught her many things that even the ever- wise Mycenae could not. They taught her how to use a sword, how to fire a bow, how to fight on horse back, how to build fires and make camps. They also taught her things Mycenae would not approve of… if she knew.

Everyday, Devany would walk to Hadrian's Wall, and sometimes would stay till well after sun down. She enjoyed the company of the knights, Bors' crude sense of humor, Tristran's accuracy, Dagonet's loyalty, Galahad's boyish charm, Gawain's sensitivity, Lancelot's stunning good looks and Arthur's determination. She loved how much they cared about each other, and how much they tried to hide that. All Devany wished for now was to be able to accompany them on one of their quests. She wanted to be put to the test, to have her fighting abilities put to use. She wanted to fight woads, and protect villages, but she knew that would never or could never happen. Devany knew that women didn't fight along side knights, yet she refused to accept the fact that all she would ever accomplish would be marrying some boorish villager and having his children, then spending the rest of her life caring for the kids and serving her husband. However, she found comfort in the fact that she was highly skilled with herbs and plants, and now she was skilled with weapons. Each night as she lay in bed she would think to herself how she had to many uses to be tossed aside, she was intelligent, talented, and she had endured so much even within the few years she had been alive, if she was able to survive her fathers murder, the Saxon's attack on her village and the death of her mother she could survive anything.

Well, one night after returning from Hadrian's Wall, Mycenae took her aside. 'Devany, I have known you for many years, and for every year I have known you, I have loved you as my own, with every ounce of my being. You mean the world to me, I feel as if you are my very own. All I have ever wanted for you is the best. I wanted you to be well educated, and to be strong, and to have good morals, to care for others and to succeed me. Now I feel that you have done all I have ever wanted you to do.'

'Mycenae, what are you trying to tell me?' Devany asked with a perplexed look on her face 'You speak as though you're dying.' Her brow was furrowed and she could feel her heart beating faster and faster within her chest. Why was Mycenae saying all this? Was something wrong? These questions haunted her mind, they were the type of questions you couldn't shake, the kind that lingered.

'No, my dear that is not what this is about' she said chuckling softly. 'And since this has seemed to upset you, I will be blunt. The Saxon's are back. They have been spotted along the coast, and have already destroyed many villages. It won't be long before they reach our village, and I couldn't bear if anything were to happen to you. So I have spoken with Arthur and his knights, and to ensure your safety, you will stay with them at Hadrian's Wall, until the Saxons have left this place.'

Devany could hardly believe what she was hearing. Did Mycenae honestly expect her to retreat to the safety of the Roman fortress, and leaveMycenae in the village where the Saxons could reach her? She sat there for a moment, thinking, about what to say, what to do. Finally after a couple of minutes, she spoke: 'I can't leave the village or you. This village is my home, and you are like my mother. If the Saxons come I will fight with the men of the village. I may be a woman but I can swing a sword. In a time of need it doesn't matter who swings the sword, it's just another sword.' She said. She felt breathless. She couldn't believe what was happening.

Mycenae smiled 'Darling, I understand how you feel. I know you don't want to leave, but you must. If the Saxons come God only knows what they would do with you. So tonight you will leave for the wall, and you will not return until Arthur decides that it is safe to do so. Now I know I am always open for discussion, but I feel that this is right for you and I refuse to hear another word concerning this issue.' She said in a firm tone, with that she stood up and left the hut. Devany sat in the hut as it continued to grow darker outside. She would go to the wall, for now…

Well there's the first chapter, I hoped you liked it. Don't worry, it gets better, I promise. Next chapter will be up soon. The knights are coming and so are the Saxons…..Please review.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimers: I do not own anything, except for a couple of my own characters.

I just want to thank everyone who has reviewed the story, your reviews were awesome!

Chapter 3

Devany had packed under the watchful eye of Mycenae, and then when the moon was at its highest, she had left the village. Tristran had been sent by Arthur to escort her to the wall, and she had gone quietly, but she already had a plan. Devany was not going to be a good little girl, she wasn't going to stay at the wall and let Saxon's destroy her village and kill everyone she held dear, she was ready and her plan was about to be set in motion.

It wasn't long before her and Tristran reached the wall, they were greeted by Arthur and Lancelot, their dark shadowy figures stood just inside the gates. Devany's eyes lit up as soon as she spotted Lancelot, she felt as though she hadn't seen him in ages, even though she had seen him just earlier that very same day. She gazed at his tall, lean yet muscular form; she loved how his eyes caught the moon light and how they lit up. Part of her wanted to believe they lit up because of her, but she knew to hope for that was too much.

Lancelot left Arthur's side and walked over to help Devany off her horse. "You! What are you doing here?" she said jokingly as he helped her slide gracefully off her horse and land gently on the ground.

He grinned boyishly, and he watched her walk over to greet Arthur who was still standing almost hidden in the shadows. Arthur stepped towards Devany "My dear, you have become even more beautiful then this morning, if that is even possible." He said as he took her hand and kissed the back of it. Arthur had always been so charming towards her, he always knew exactly what to say and do to make her feel special, to make her feel like a princess.

Devany smiled as she walked with the three knights into a small courtyard. There she found the rest of the knights doing what they always did best at this time, drinking. All the knights looked up as she entered; they all yelled some battle cry that they used to greet her with before continuing with their nightly activities. Jols got up and walked over to them "Arthur, would you like me to show the young lady to her room?" he asked looking at Arthur then letting his eyes settle on Devany.

"No, it's alright, you stay here. I think I will have that honour" he replied smoothly, motioning for Devany to follow him. He led her down a long stone corridor that was very dimly lit. Finally they reached a large wooden door; Arthur pushed it open and led her into the room. "I trust that this will be to your liking." He added, watching Devany walk through the room and sit down on the bed.

"Yes, this is very nice Arthur, thank you very much." She replied smiling as she continued to look around. The room had a high ceiling and thick wooden beams blocked the view of the top. Her room had a large window that faced out away from the wall and at the end of her bed there was a large elaborate fireplace with beautifully carved depictions of gallant knights charging into battle.

"Very good, then I shall leave so you can settle in. We'll be in meeting with Bishop Germanius, but it shouldn't be very long." He said before turning and leaving her to her thoughts. Devany got up and walked over to her window; she pushed aside the long flowing curtains and looked out into the night. She could see the moon over the flat landscape that seemed to be only around the wall. Everywhere else on the island was covered in beautiful rolling hills, but not around Hadrian's Wall, here the land was perfectly flat, all that could be seen was a big beautiful oak tree. She smiled and turned and walked back over to the bed, she lay down and thought through her plan. She knew she had to be careful; it had to be perfectly timed and perfectly executed if she expected to get away and not be noticed too quickly.

Devany rolled over and lay on her back, and a cool breeze floated through the window and sent a shiver up and down her spine. It was an odd breeze; it was quite unnerving for some odd reason. It was a warning, though she didn't know it. It was warning her of what was yet to come, a series of formidable events was about to be set into motion..


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except a few of my own characters.**

**I'm absolutely loving the reviews, they're awesome! If anyone has any suggestions or comments please by all means let me know.**

_Chapter 4_

The cool breezes that had kept slipping through Devany's window had, in the end, helped her drift into a deep, amicable sleep. This had not been part of her plan. She awoke just before day break, and silently cursed herself for her stupidity. She knew her plan was entirely off now, the knights would be out in the courtyard, and she would be unable to leave and get far enough away before they realised the situation. Devany stood up and stretched, she had to admit though, she had never slept quite like that before, it was a refreshing, rejuvenating sleep. She crossed the room to the window, it was still fairly dark outside, and perhaps she still had a chance to fix the mess she had made of her pristine plan.

Devany walked over to her bag that she had dropped at the end of the bed and quickly searched through it. Out of it she drew a forest green tunic and a pair of black fitted trousers. She quickly dressed and attached to her belt two Katar's. Devany quickly tied up her long, curly, dark hair as she walked out towards the courtyard. She looked out quietly, there were no knights, and this caused her great discomfort. All she was able to see were a few Roman stationeries, who seemed to have passed out. Devany took advantage of the situation and headed quietly towards the stable. She moved swiftly and effortlessly as she prepared her horse to ride.

A few moments later, she rode the horse out of the gates, which had proven the hardest part of her escape, yet she was quite satisfied knowing no one had heard. She rode quickly along the wall until she reached the forest that hid her village. Her horse froze, and Devany stared terror stricken into the forest. She could see smoke billowing up into the early morning sky and she could hear the screams of women and children and the clashing of swords and the cries of dying men. She was too late, the Saxons were already there. Devany gave her horse a firm kick in the side and rode it full speed towards the village. When she got to the village she dismounted and turned to view fiery tableau. The Saxons had already secured the village, and were finishing off the few villagers who had attempted to protect it.

She turned to run, but in vain. She had already been spotted, by an oddly large, hairy Saxon, who had scooped her up almost instantly. She kicked viciously and struggled to get away, but it was no use, he was too big and far too strong. The more she struggled the tighter he held on to her, until she finally gave up. He threw her to the ground at the feet of Cerdic, who was flocked by Cynric and Raewald. Devany didn't look up, she couldn't, she knew what she would see and she couldn't bear it. She prayed to God that he would kill her right then and there, she knew it was the best she could hope for. Then he spoke, his voice was blood curdling, it was the voice that had haunted her dreams since she was a child. "Well I'll be damned." His voice was deep and husky. "Kabira…" she flinched, he remembered.

She slowly lifted her heard and her eyes met his "My lord" she bowed her head before beginning to get to her feet. For some odd reason, she felt relieved. She remembered when she had stayed with him when she was little. In fact those were the only memories she had at that age. She could scarcely remember what her parents looked like, or even what they were like, but she could remember when he had spared her.

"I never thought I would see the day, when I saw you again." He said impassively. Cynric stepped towards her as well, he smirked, and Devany's blood ran cold.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except a few of my own characters.**

**Also I just wanted to say, I absolutely love the reviews, and thank you for taking the time to review my story. If anyone has any comments, suggestions or criticisms please let me know.**

_Chapter 5_

The knights already knew that Devany had left, Arthur had been expecting it. He knew she would try to leave, he could sense it, and in fact he felt somehow comforted knowing that she had left. He would have been afraid if she hadn't escaped. Lancelot however was greatly unnerved and couldn't shake the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, he felt as though she was in danger. If he only knew where Devany was at that particular moment…

>>>>>>>>>>>>

Devany remembered Cynric as a young boy. He had seemed less sinister; he had almost been human in her opinion. Now Cynric was as evil and cold hearted and morbid as his father. It chilled her to the bone just looking at the two of them. Cerdic hadn't changed much since she was a child; he appeared not to have aged at all. Though to her he had always looked hard and weathered, he had never looked old and he still didn't. Cynric though, had changed immensely. He had been young boy when she was a child, now he was man. He looked so different, when she last saw him he looked so young and happy, his eyes were lit with a light that had long since gone out. Cynric had now taken after his father; his once luminous skin was weathered and dirty and his features had become hard and defined. He had grown as well; he used to be a small boy, which hadn't helped the disappointment that Cerdic felt towards him. He was still not as large as some of the Saxons, but he was still bigger than most.

The three of them had stood there in silence for a few moments; Devany had been so busy noticing the changes in them that she had forgotten the eerie grin that Cynric was displaying. Finally he stepped towards his father, the two mumbled quietly before looking at Devany once again. Cynric stepped forward he stood for a moment examining Devany before he spoke. His voice was still masked with a strong Germanic accent, but it had deepened, it was hardly recognizable to her now. "I think you should stay for a while" he said sneering. Before Devany could react to his words she had been snatched by Raewald and another, equally as large Saxon who dragged her away from Cerdic and Cynric towards a dark hut that lingered on the outskirts of the village.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The knights had already begun to worry; it had been hours since they had discovered that Devany was missing. Lancelot was restless and paced the courtyard in a crazed manner. Tristran had gone out in search of her, twice and had returned both times with nothing, not so much as a trace of where she might be.

"We must wait here for a day or so" Arthur said trying to calm Lancelot down, but it was in vain. Lancelot continued to pace, and he was growing more and more frustrated, first with the failed attempts to find her and now with Arthur's continuous 'advice' on what should and should not be done.

"Arthur, she's out there! She's alone, and she's in danger." Lancelot finally exploded, he had always been protective of Devany and the thought of her in trouble or pain was more then he could bare.

"Lancelot you don't know that!" Arthur replied trying once again to calm his friend. "None of us know anything." He paused for quite a while before he continued. "I thought perhaps she had just snuck out to check up on Mycenae, but Mycenae would not have permitted her to stay long. I'm just as afraid and worried as you are, we all are, but we have to stay here for a day or two, we have no idea whether she is out of her own free will or if danger has be-fallen her." Arthur couldn't bare the waiting anymore, he turned quickly and left the courtyard.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Devany sat quiet and motionless in the hut she had been locked in. She knew to attempt an escape was a waste of time and energy, and to do so could not only bring upon her the wrath of both Cerdic and Cynric, it could cause them reason of distrust towards her. She couldn't risk that. She needed their trust if she ever wanted to return to the wall, or even live to see another day. Devany was scared though, and she wouldn't try to deny it. She was terrified, but she felt some relief in the fact that she had lived longer then any other prisoner the Saxons had ever taken before. She felt that this could mean they had plans for her that would omit her death.

Finally after what seemed like days, yet was mere hours, Cerdic came to her hut. He was alone, though that would change nothing; no one had ever seen skill with a sword that could match Cerdic's.

Devany rose to her feet, but she didn't dare leave the corner she had been cowering in. His tall apposing figure moved towards her, and she thanked the horribly dim lighting of the hut, it would mask her fear. "You fear me." He spat. "I can smell it, you reek of fear."

He stopped where he was and was silent for a moment. "Why do you fear me? I spared you before."

Devany backed against the wall and didn't move, and it was a while before she spoke. "I was child before; you had just killed my mother in front of my eyes. You didn't spare me out of the goodness of your heart or your pity towards me. You spared me because you were driven by the guilt you felt from your actions." She could barely speak these words, she felt as though she would choke on them, yet she feared if she didn't speak she would anger him.

Cerdic nodded. "You're a smart girl…or woman shall I say." He said barely suppressing a laugh. "I won't deny it, that is the main reason I saved you, but if I felt like that then, why should that change. If I truly felt guilty before, I would still feel guilty, if not more guilty. For now you understand what I did, before you were so young and terrified you had no concept of what was going on." His words burned into her. He was right, and she hated that. "It's going to be cold tonight, too cold, and we need as many huts as we can get, so you will be staying with Cynric." He turned and left the hut, and left Devany in more fear then she had felt awaiting his visit.

True to his words, an hour or so later at sunset, Raewald came for her. He knew now that she meant not to escape and escorted her out of her hut and they made their way across the village. It was cold, extremely cold. It took one small breeze to chill her. Why had it grown so cold, she wondered. When they reached the other side of the village Raewald led her into the forest. Devany was scared now; she was supposed to be going to Cynric, unless of course Cynric meant to kill her there, in the woods. Soon though a large hut came into view, it was just barely beyond sight of the village and it was surrounded by four others, a larger one and three smaller ones. The Saxons must have built these ones themselves most likely for Cerdic, Cynric, Raewald, the British scout and other Saxons who held any importance.

Raewald led her into the one hut, inside it was warm, stiflingly warm. Devany felt she could hardly breathe. The walls were decorated with animal pelts, red linens and shields, and in the far corner a large pile of furs served as a bed. The hut was dimly lit and the fire in the centre was only a pile of burning embers. Raewald turned and left, shutting the door hard behind him. Devany was left there, alone, or so she thought. The linens that hung from the ceilings had hidden Cynric from her view; he stood in the corner, motionless and silent. He watched her for a moment, he reminisced. He watched how the embers cast shadows on her, on her long dark hair, in her piercing green eyes. Finally he stepped towards her. "Funny, isn't it?" he said as he circled her "how people change."

Devany watched him for a minute or two before she realised that he was getting at something. "You've changed." She whispered. Cynric stopped moving his head down.

"I know, but so have you. Your not the same girl I used to know." He replied as he walked up to stand in front of her. He was so close she could feel heat emanating off him and she could feel his breath.

"You never really knew me, I never really understood you. I never understood how someone so kind and understanding could be so easily turned into a cold blooded killer. I do understand who made you like this though…your father. He made you like this, he did this to you." Her voice started to betray the emotions she was now feeling.

"He made me strong; he made me what I am. I'm not a killer, I'm a fighter, and I'm a Saxon. When I was a boy I was weak."

"You weren't, you were kind hearted, and you were merciful." She felt now as though they had known each other this entire time, he allowed her to speak to him this way, she didn't understand why, but as he stood there she felt as though she was gazing into the eyes of the devil. His eyes were dark, but empty, utterly empty, yet they burned into her very soul, and then...his voice...

"Mercy is weakness."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except a few of my own characters.**

**Also I just wanted to say, I absolutely love the reviews, and thank you for taking the time to review my story. If anyone has any comments, suggestions or criticisms please let me know.**

_Chapter 6_

The sun had set and all of the knights were now sick with worry. Galahad and Lancelot had left hours ago with Tristran to look for Devany, and hadn't yet returned. Meanwhile Arthur paced along the top of the wall, he wanted so desperately to be able to see Devany riding across the moonlit hills, but he saw nothing. There was no movement, there was nothing. Arthur gave one last look out into the fields before turning and walking back down to the courtyard. Bors, Gawain and Dagonet sat in the courtyard, they usually were drinking or practising with their swords, but not this night, the simply sat there in silence, occasionally casting each other weary looks.

>>>

Devany continued to gaze into Cynric's eyes, hoping she would see a glimpse of the Cynric she used to know. It didn't come; his eyes seemed dead, void of all life. Finally she gave up hope and looked down towards her feet, now she wished he would say something, anything to break the torturous silence. And just as she felt hiseyes would burn a hole right through her they were interrupted by Raewald's voice. "Your father requests your presence." He shouted through the door of the hut. Cynric rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath before walking to door and exiting the hut. Devany walked towards the fire in the centre of the hut as she heard the door slam behind her. She briefly thought she could escape, but quickly discarded this idea. Cynric wasn't stupid, she would give him that, he was quite clever and very cunning. She knew Raewald was on the other side of that door just waiting for her to attempt to escape so he could report back to Cerdic and Cynric, but she wasn't going to let him, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction. Instead she sat down by the glowing embers; she would wait for him to come back.

>>>

Lancelot, Galahad and Tristran had combed the country side north of the wall, but they had no luck. Finally they agreed that the darkness could only make searching for Devany worse and headed back towards Hadrian's Wall. Lancelot still wanted to search though; he knew he would not sleep a wink until Devany was safely back at the wall. "Perhaps we should search the forest before returning." He said turning his horse.

"No Lancelot, it's too dark. Even if she is there, it will be too hard to find her, especially if she does not wish to be found." Tristran replied moving his horse so that he was in Lancelot's way.

"Tristran's right Lancelot, we should go back to the wall, get some rest and continue at first light tomorrow." Galahad added. "I care for Devany as much as any one else, but it's insanity to enter those woods at night. There could be Woads, Saxons, and who knows what else lurks beneath those trees."

Lancelot hadn't thought of that, and new waves of worry turned in his head. "That's all the more reason to look, what if something gets her, I could never forgive myself." He was more worried now then ever; he would feel entirely to blame should any harm befall Devany.

>>>

Devany had waited by the fire, thinking, she thought about her situation and she felt as though it was hopeless. She wanted to believe that if they hadn't killed her yet that they wouldn't, but she knew deep down that she was of no use to them, and if she was as soon as they had taken from her what was needed, she would be gotten rid of immediately.

After a while, the dim lighting of the hut, the warmth and the sound of the wind whistling through trees lulled her to sleep. It was a light, troubled sleep; horrible images kept arising in her mind, images of Cynric…

An hour or so later, Cynric entered the hut. The moon was at its highest and the wind blew the snow through the canopy of the forest so it reached the forest floor. He walked in and realised just in time that Devany was asleep and right in front of him. He gazed at her for a moment before walking around her; he walked over to the pile of furs in the corner and lay down. He couldn't take his eyes off her, his eyes scanned over her sleeping form long into the night.

>>>

All the knights had retired to their rooms, except for Lancelot. He couldn't sleep, he wouldn't be capable of doing so. He could only think about Devany, she was the only girl that he had felt for in this way. Most girls to Lancelot were passing desires they all came and went as quickly as the one before, and he had never really felt for them. True he cared about them and would not let any danger befall them, but right now all he could think about was her…

>>>

In the early morning, Devany awoke. The embers had burned out and the only light that was provided was from moonlight. She sat up and realised suddenly just how very cold it was inside. Devany glanced around the hut, but darkness veiled her, and suddenly she grew quite afraid, she didn't even know why. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck and she could feel shivers running up and down her spine. Then she heard it, his breathing, and then she became aware of where he was. She couldn't see him; all she could see was the reflection of the moon in his eyes, over in the corner. "It's really too cold to be sleeping on the floor." He said coolly.

His words made her stomach tie into knots and her breath catch in her throat. She couldn't speak, she couldn't move either. She sat there, frozen with fear.

"Come here." The words she had been dreading. She knew she had to obey, but felt as though her legs were made of stone. Finally though, she forced herself to her feet, she slowly approached the corner. She sank to her knees and she felt him grab her wrists and pull her slowly and gently towards him. It was quite warm, the furs and him. Devany still could only make out his form, even without his armor he was excessively large, an imposing, intimidating figure. He pulled her into him and held her there for a moment, her wrists still captive to his grasp. "I still stick by what I said before." He whispered. "You've changed, but for the better. You're not that small whimpering girl I used to know, you're strong…and beautiful."

She couldn't breath, it felt as though time had stopped. Devany didn't know what to think, what to say, she didn't know if she should say anything at all. She feared this was a trap, that it was bait and she refused to take it. "Why are you keeping me here? You know I am of no use to you." Her words were as full of emotion as she was at this moment. She wanted to go back to the wall, she wanted to go to sleep in her bed there, then in the morning she wanted to practise the sword with Lancelot and archery with Tristran and Bors. It was at that particular moment Devany realised her mistake, it was disobeying Mycenae and lying to Arthur. She had done exactly what Mycenae had wanted to prevent, she had gotten captured by the Saxons, and now there was nothing she could do. It was too late, she had already made her mistakes and now she would pay the consequences.

"Only in your mind are you of no use to us." His voice brought her back to the cruel reality. "You know about the Sarmatian Knights, so you serve a purpose for my father. To me, you hold a much greater, inveterate purpose." His hands loosened their grip on her wrists and instead of holding her in front of him, they drew her closer.

"Why are you doing this?" Devany hissed pushing back from him. "What's in this for you?" Cynric grinned and had it not been dark, perhaps Devany would have seen this. Then he pulled her back to him and slowly lowered his head to her ear, he could feel her trembling against him.

"You are!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except a few of my own characters.**

**Sorry it took me a while to update, I went away for a bit. Thanks for the reviews though, their awesome! Any comments or suggestions? Just let me know. **

_Chapter 7_

Lancelot hadn't slept at all that long night; he hadn't even bothered trying to. He was sick with worry, and exhausted, but at first light he had readied himself to go in search of Devany again. As soon as Tristran had woken they left, along with Bors and as usual, Dagonet.

>>>

Devany awoke on Cynric's bed of furs, she had almost forgotten where she was and what had happened, but she soon recalled that excruciatingly long night. She remembered when he had drawn her into him, what she had said, what he had said, then she remembered how just as she thought she would be forced to endure more of the torment, Cerdic had called for him. She had almost been overwhelmed by relief, and it was the first time since she had been taken captive that she felt safe. He had left, and to this point had not yet returned. Devany looked around the hut; she wondered for how long Cynric would be gone for. And just as she thought that he could be gone for quite some time, he returned.

>>>

Lancelot paced around his room, he was soaked from head to toe and his wet armor hung over the fire. He could not believe that the third attempt to find Devany, or at least a trace of her, had failed entirely. He walked over to the window and peered out over the landscape, but the rainfall blocked anything he might have seen. Lancelot turned to leave his room and was stopped by Arthur. "Lancelot, Tristran is going out again by himself. It's easier for him to travel alone, he might turn up something."

"I want to help him, I can't sit back and do nothing!" Lancelot was quickly losing his temper, he couldn't just sit back and let Tristran be the only one doing anything to find Devany.

"Well it's too late Tristran left a little while ago. I just want Devany found, I'm only thinking about her. Tristran works better alone, he's a highly skilled tracker, you know that. I'll do whatever it takes to getDevany back." Arthur replied before turning and walking away. He knew Lancelot would be furious, and he for one did not want to stick around to deal with it right now, he had too much on his mind.

>>>

Devany silently cursed herself. She sat up and watched him mutter angrily to himself as he walked around the hut. Finally he remembered that she was there and paused. "I trust you slept well." He said sneering and he took a few steps towards her. "I had hoped that the words I had left you with would help you sleep at ease." His mordancy chilled her to the bone.

"It wasn't your words that disturbed me, but your face." She spat at him. "Though I should think you already know all your faults, your father never fails to remind you." She added smoothly. It wasn't until afterwards that she realised her harsh remarks would have great consequences. Devany tried to maintain a pristine outwards appearance to mask the fear that she was beginning to succumb to.

Cynric's face then contorted into laughter, "Kabira…" she flinched at the use of her birth name, it was the realization of her connection to Cynric. "You forget, my dear." He said grinning as he lay down beside her. "I am the only chance you have at ever seeing your precious knight ever again." Every word held more insult towards her then the last.

"How do you know about him?" her voice was nothing more then a whisper. Her hands clenched down on the furs beneath them.

"Kabira, are you really that naive? You honestly think that we caught you simply out of luck. Oh no my love, contrary to your beliefs I am quite clever." He said propping himself up on one elbow to look at her. "I had been keeping an eye on you for quite some time, I knew where you'd be, even after word of our arrival had broke out, I knew what you would do, and I acted."

"Why are you doing this?" her voice was forced and she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. "So you planned this, you planned my capture. Well here I am, and what now Cynric, what now?" she hissed, she could feel the tears stinging her eyes, yet she refused to let a single tear dampen her cheek. She couldn't help it, all she wanted was to go home. She simply couldn't shake the despair that had clouded her heart.

He sat up, he moved himself closer to her and placedhis hand on the small of her back. "Now you help me." He replied softly, gently pushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.

"Help you?"

"Yes, My father wants Arthur, I want to please my father, and you want to return to your knight in shining armor. So really we can all help each other out, you give me Arthur, which makes my father a very happy man. Then I see to your return." Devany turned to look into his eyes.

"You want me to betray Arthur." She said almost laughing. "Never." She was definite; there was no doubt in her mind about what she was doing. She would never deceive Arthur.

He nodded "So be it." He stated simply before getting to his feet and heading to the door "So, that's your decision…your sure that's what you want?" he asked as hefastened hissword to his belt.

"Yes, that's what I want." Devany replied standing up.

Cynric nodded again and opened the door of the hut. He stood there for a moment before turning around to face her, "but is that what dear Lancelot wants?" he asked before slamming the door behind him, leaving Devany alone to contemplate how far she was willing to go to be with Lancelot. Would she give Arthur to the Saxons? Would she hand him over to suffering or death?

**Well there it is, and sorry it took me a little longer to update. I found this chapter especially hard to write for some reason, but I hope you enjoy it!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except a few of my own characters.**

**Thanks for the reviews , their awesome! Any comments or suggestions? Just let me know. **

_Chapter 8_

It wasn't until sunset that Tristran finally returned, he was exhausted and after settling his horse in the stables, he headed towards the courtyard. He found all of the knights sitting waiting for him, quite impatiently as it would seem. Once they spotted him they all rose to their feet and slowly approached him, their faces masked with worry. Arthur took a few steps toward Tristran, "Well? Did you find anything, anything at all?" Lancelot held his breath as he awaited Tristan's answer. Tristran stood there for a moment, trying to decide how it would be best to word his findings. After a moment or so he spoke. "I was unable to turn up any definite answers, but I did learn that the Saxons currently inhabit Devany's village, and that all the villagers were killed. But I do know that they have a female hostage, right now, at this very moment."

The knights exchanged glances. Arthur looked at Lancelot before turning back to face Tristran. "All the villagers were killed?" his face began to cloud with a new type of worry. "What of Mycenae, she must be alive!"

Tristran just looked at Arthur, that wasall he found himself capable of doing. He couldn't find the words to tell Arthur or any of the knights that Mycenae was dead. Arthur starred at Tristran in disbelief before turning and quickly fleeing the courtyard. The knights watched him leave before turning their attentions back to the problem at hand. "We must find out whether or not it's Devany that the Saxons have taken captive. We need to know, quickly, because if it's not Devany we still need to determine her whereabouts." Lancelot said trying to remain calm. He was well aware the hysteric's would be of no help to the situation.

>>>

Cynric stood with his father in the middle of the village. Cerdic's cold eyes scanned over the ranks as they worked quickly to assemble tents, as protection from the cold that had already claimed the lives of twenty soldiers. Cynric stood beside his father in silence for quite a while, his one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword, then finally, what he had been waiting for. Raewald approached him, Cerdic noticed the two talking quietly amongst each other, then Raewald turned and left. Cerdic turned to Cynric, "What was that?" he voice was as cold and emotionless as his eyes.

"Father, the knights know she's here. Now it's just a matter of time." Cynric replied while trying to conceal his grin. Cerdic nodded and they stood once again watching the soldiers. After a couple more minutes in the freezing cold, Cynric turned and headed back towards his hut.

>>>

Tristran had somehow verified the fact that it was Devany who was the hostage. Even the knights were unaware of how he did it, he refused to say. However, it was good enough for the knights, they needed nothing more. After running through a plan on just how they might go about getting Devany back, they retired for the night. They would need their rest for what was about to occur the very next day.

>>>

Cynric walked into the hut, the fire had burned down to glowing embers once again, and Devany lay fast asleep on his furs. He smiled before walking over to where she lay. He watched her for a moment, she had seemed a little more comfortable in her surroundings now for she slept quite peacefully. Cynric sat down next to her, his weight on the furs roused Devany and she slowly opened her eyes. Even she was surprised at how well she had slept, everything that had been on her mind had vanished and the warmth of the fire and the sound of wind whistling outside had drawn her into a deep dreamless sleep. She sat up and turned to look at Cynric, "We need to talk." She said politely, yet firmly at the same time.

"Really? What about?" Cynric asked as he removed his sword and the many other weapons he always carried with him.

"About what you said earlier." Devany replied turning to face him entirely. "I can't betray Arthur, and if that means that I'll never see Lancelot again, then fine. If that is the price I must pay to ensure the safety of my friend, then no sacrifice is too much." She hoped that perhaps the Cynric she once knew would be able to fight through the rock that had kept it prisoner all these years. Cynric held her gaze for a moment.

"If that is what you want, then there is nothing I can do to change your mind. But I must warn you, Arthur will still be in danger, my father will get to him sooner or later, with or without your help." His voice was calm and steady.

"If your father can do this without me, then release me, I'm of no further use to you." Her eyes searched his desperately, she knew the Cynric she had once loved was still there, and it was her only hope.

"I can't do that Kabira." Cynric said picking up a long stick which he used to prod at the coals of the fire.

"Cynric, why not? You don't need me, and I know as cold and heartless as you are, you won't kill me, and neither will your father. He saved me once, why would he bother only to turn around and kill me later, and you won't, I know you." She could feel therhythm of her heart increase beneath her chest.

"You knew the boy I was, not the man I am ." He stood up and walked around to the other side of the fire. Devany got up and followed him.

"That boy is still there in you."

"No." Cynric turned to face her and they stood in silence hearing only the crackling of the embers. "I beg you Kabira, don't do this. You're on dangerous ground."

"Cynric, I beg you, let me go!" she felt the warmth on her cheek as a single tear escaped her eyes. "I just want to go back."

"So you can be with him." His voice was becoming colder by the moment, and Devany saw her hope for freedom slip away.

"Cynric I love him." She could feel another tear slide down her cheek.

"WELL I LOVE YOU!"

**Well there you go. I hope this chapter was better then the previous one, and as usual, please review. I love to hear your feedback!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except a few of my own characters.**

**Thanks for the reviews , their awesome! Any comments or suggestions? Just let me know. **

_Chapter 9_

The next morning was cold, and the air was thick with snow. Treacherous winds blew hard and merciless. The tents that the Saxons had assembled the night before had done very little. The night had been long and the cold claimed the lives of a dozen more soldiers.

Now Cerdic, as hard as he fought against himself, was worried. Yet somehow on the outside he remained cool and emotionless. He worried for he knew Arthur was coming, soon, very soon, and his numbers were dwindling slowly. Each night claimed more lives, and part of him was starting to worry that by the time Arthur arrived, there wouldn't be very many Saxons left.

>>>

The knights rode single file, through the blasting winds, so cold they stole the breath away. The horses moved slowly and stumbled through the deep, thick snow. All of them fearing what would happen. Whether or not they would reach Devany in time, if they would be able to reach her at all, and what waited in store for them when the Saxons discovered them.

Lancelot peered out from the hood of his cloak. The wind stung his eyes, and he could feel the snowflakes in his eyelashes. But he could see nothing, everything was white and he could just make out the large figure of Bors, barely a foot in front of him.

>>>

Devany was still huddled in the corner she had been driven into the night before. Neither she nor Cynric had slept at all that night. She didn't want to believe what he had said was true. He couldn't love her, he was no longer suppose to be capable of such an emotion. He was suppose to be heartless and unforgiving, yet this should have been what she wanted. She had seen the emotion she would have needed for Cynric to free her, and it still was. But she knew she would need to take advantage of this, and she found herself unable to do so. She loved Lancelot, and she had felt ready to do anything to get back to him, until now. Devany didn't want to allow herself to acknowledge it, but she knew she loved Cynric as well. It only made sense to her now why her heart beat faster when he was around, why she had to battle against her curiosity every time his name was mentioned, why she wanted him to feel something…anything for her.

Cynric sat in his fathers' hut, he wanted to return to his own, to see Devany, but he was to ashamed of himself. He wasn't suppose to love anything but death and destruction and the success of his people. But he loved her, and he had admitted to it. Now he was afraid, all he could think about was how badly he wished that she felt the same. He was terrified of how unbearable it would be to discover that he had abandoned everything his culture and his father had taught him...for nothing.

Cerdic sat across from him, impassive. He was tired, he could only think about how all his men were dying, and that it wasn't because of a battle that might somehow enrich Saxony . And now this, Cynric in love, with Devany, the only person he had ever really felt something for. He knew now that he hadn't saved her all those years ago, because of obligation. He had done it because he was attached to this girl, and he didn't know why. Part of him was glad Cynric loved her, then the other part hated him and was jealous of him for it.

" So now what?" he asked looking into the glowing embers of his fire.

" I don't know Father. I love her, but she loves _him_." Cynric's eyes glowed maliciously at the thought of Lancelot. Before Lancelot was just opposition, but now it was personal. Cynric could feel the hatred burning up inside him.

After a few moments Cynric rose to his feet and turned quickly, leaving Cerdic's question unanswered. He couldn't answer it, he didn't know what would happen now. He only knew what he wanted to happen now.

He entered the hut, his eyes lowered. He couldn't even bring himself to look at her, for he knew if he did he would lose all control and he feared what he might do. Devany on the other hand, watched him closely, she couldn't avert her gaze.

"Cynric, about last night…" she began quietly, but was cut off .

" Kabira, last night we both said many things. And I think we regret a lot of what was said, especially me. I love you, but I shouldn't have said so. I don't want to give you false hope, just because I love you doesn't mean I can let you go. Even if I could let you go, I wouldn't, because you would only go back to Lancelot." His voice was hoarse and quiet and he still had not brought himself to look at her.

"Yes, I would go back to him, I love him. I don't know how to explain, how we make each other feel. I adore everything about him, and the longer you keep me here, the less and less I feel for you. There's a part of me that loves you, it's the part that loved you all those years ago and has never stopped loving you, but the other part of me hates you more and more each day for keeping me from Lancelot, when I know that you are the only thing that stands between us being together." The tears rolled down her face freely and she gasped for breath through her sobs. Cynric stood for a moment watching her quivering form, before he approached her.

" Kabira, stand up." He said softly, he helped her to her feet. He stared at her down turned face. He could see the tears stuck to her eyelashes, and it only made him love her more. " Before I ever met you, I thought I had it all, I thought I was happy. But after you came into my life I realised that before you, I was nothing, realised how empty it was until you came into my life. When you left I was miserable, because I had lost the only thing that had ever made me happy. Now you're here, with me, again, but I can't feel happy and content because all you can think about is how badly you want to leave. To just walk out of my life, and I couldn't bear it to happen again…

**Well there it is, and sorry it took me so long to update. I hope you enjoy it!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except a few of my own characters**

**Thanks for reviewing, and sorry it's taken me so long to update. I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

_Chapter 10_

The knight's found sanctuary from the blistering winds, in the woods, just out of reach or detection of the Saxons. They knew that they must strike quickly, as soon as they could account for all the Saxons. They couldn't wait, if they did the cold might claim their abilities, their limbs, even their lives. Tristan had left to scout the Saxon camp and Arthur feared for him. Not only would the storm cause his abilities to falter, but Saxons were unpredictable, deadly and struck with brute force. Lancelot could see the worry spread across Arthur's furrowed brow.

"Arthur, do not feel distress for Tristan, he is more then able for his task, and can safeguard himself as good as any of us." He hoped his words would comfort Arthur. He hated to see Arthur, such a good, dear friend, suffering emotionally as he did. Arthur merely nodded as he continued to gaze through forest, hoping that he would see Tristan returning safely through the desolate trees.

>>>

Devany stood there motionless, mere inches from Cynric. How could she love Lancelot with all of her being, and still care so much about what Cynric told her. His words shocked her, thrilled her, and she hated that they meant something to her. She feared that his words would win her heart, whether they were truth or a tortuous ploy to steal her from Lancelot. Her heart, and mind was racing, she found herself void of words. Devany couldn't move, and all the thoughts began to tangle in her mind and confuse her.

Cynric could see the disorientation in her eyes, and he realized, maybe, just maybe, Lancelot did not have the hold on her that he had suspected. He felt a rush of hope, and longing flood through him.

"You loved me once, you can love me again. You can save me from a forsaken life of treachery and death. I know you feel for me, maybe not the way you _think_ you feel for him, being here with me has made you realized how you once felt, you're remembering…" He held her gaze, the intensity was almost numbing.

"No" the word breathlessly escaped her lips. She knew she had to say it to convince herself, before she threw her love for Lancelot away. She couldn't love Cynric; she couldn't let herself continue down this path. "I love him, my heart belongs to him. You had a chance, many years ago, but you were stubborn and persuaded by your father, you're my past, and that's where you'll stay." Her words were quiet and laced with the anguish she felt in her heart. Yet each one cut into Cynric like flaming daggers. He felt his face burn with the anger she had forced into his very soul.

"No" He could feel the anger grow more intense every second. "I'm your present; you can't ignore me, when I'm standing right in front of you." His calloused hands grabbed her waist and drew her roughly into him. "You can't ignore me." One hand sought the back of her neck and drew her face to him, and she felt his warm, moist lips against her own. She felt his impenetrable force holding her, and she couldn't move. She fought against his lips; she knew she had to resist him, until she felt his tongue invade her. She could feel the desire to fight him fading, her treacherous body yearned for him, and she hated herself for melting in his arms.

Then…there he was. Lancelot stood before them, inside Cynric's hut. Devany stared in shock, and Cynric, not at all surprised released her from his grasp, his mouth turned into a crooked grin.

Lancelot's chocolate eyes looked black and they burned into Devany, she could feel his rage and his ebony eyes terrified her.

"Lancelot, I know what you must think, I know how this must seem, but it isn't, you must believe me." She felt searing heat spread across her cheeks, and her heart beat so fast beneath her breast that she felt it would explode.

Lancelot has snuck from the group to pursue Devany; he had feared what Cynric might have done to her. But now he saw that she gave in to all of Cynric's advances willingly, and he was furious. He knew he should be furious with Devany, yet he felt himself compelled to hate Cynric. He drew his broad swords. He would hurt Cynric as Cynric had hurt him, better yet, he'd kill him. Cynric's grin widened and he picked up his sword and a small axe.

"So you're going to kill me?" he chuckled maliciously. "and win her back.." his eyes flashed dangerously. Lancelot tried to veil his shock. What did this mean '_Win her back…'_ had she really fallen for him, this Saxon? Lancelot advanced and Devany shrank back from the vicious unforgiving iron, as Lancelot's rage met Cynric's. Lancelot was used to destroying the enemy in a matter or seconds. He felt fear sweep over him as Cynric matched his skill. Devany stood and watched in terror, she couldn't stop them, but she could run. Devany slipped past the brawl and fled. She felt the bitter cold take her breath away, but she couldn't go back, this was her chance to escape Cynric's grasp. She bound through the thick tree trunks, the disguise of the trees would help her escape to Hadrian's Wall. Then among the tress she saw the knight's amidst their battle against the Saxons. She couldn't run through it, she'd have to run around it. She headed back towards the encampment, and flew past the tents, and felt herself being pulled into one. The force was so great and it threw her to the floor. It was Cerdic.

She stared at him dread. It had always confused her how she could fear the man who had spared her life. His eyes seemed as dark and cold in the firelight as they did in the sunlight. They were dark and glassy and vacant. There was no emotion, and as she lay there cowering on the ground before him, held by his scrutiny, she felt as if she was peering into a labyrinth.

"You think you can escape?" his voice was quiet and hoarse, yet it still invoked such fear that Devany felt paralyzed. "I kept you from death those many years ago, and this is how you repay me?" He slowly advanced upon her, and she remained frozen quivering in front of him.

"I know what you ask of me, but I can't betray Arthur, he's my friend and I owe him as much as I owe you." Her voice trembled and he towered above her.

"Ah, Kabira you have already delivered him to me. I never expected you to give him to me, you were my trap, and he came to you as I knew he would. Like a moth to the flame. So I thank my dear. However that was not the payment I was referring to." The firelight flickered in his eyes. He extended a hand and raised her to her feet. Even standing she felt small next to him, she barely reach his shoulders. She felt anxious being so close to him, she could feel the heat from his body and she could smell the leather of his armor. "The day I spared you, I knew there would be a day when I would look upon the beauty that you would grow into. This is that day." He face remained impassive as he traced a finger along her jaw and down her neck to her chest. Devany shuddered, it was a touch of evil, yet she had always known that one day she would have to face it, to satisfy it…

**Well there it is…I hope you enjoyed reading it. Please if you have any comments, questions or suggestions, let me know.**

**And incase anyone reading is interested, I am starting a Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest fic. So if your interested, check it out.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except a few of my own characters**

**Thanks for the reviews, their awesome! Thanks to Mandy Leigh who brought to my attention that my epilogue should be a prologue.**

_Chapter11_

Lancelot felt the red hot anger pumping through his veins, as his swords met Cynric's. He could only linger on what he had seen. _Him _with Devany, it disgusted him, it enraged him. He had never felt this kind of anger or hatred towards anyone, even when they captured Devany, he had been angered, but he had not felt the hatred for Cynric.

Cynric's eyes were dark and hard, like his father's. He didn't fight with rage, but with travesty. He didn't _hate_ Lancelot, but he would kill him. Why should he hate him, he knew now that Kabira heart was his, he had stolen her from Lancelot both physically and emotionally. He smirked as he fought, he had the advantage, he was stronger and tougher then Lancelot. Cerdic has ensured that Cynric never got the easy way out of any situation. He had been raised to be as tough, as calloused, as cruel as his father before him.

>>>

The knights fought hard, while the trees provided protection from the blasting winds, they still left the knights exposed to the cold. They fought hard, the Saxons fought harder, and it seemed to the knights as if the cold had no affect on them. They fought with such adherence and ferocity, and Arthur feared for the lives of his knights.

>>>

Devany felt sick, sick with fear. She had never imagined that Cerdic's intentions would prove his lust for her. How could the man who saw her as a small child possibly wish to bed her?

"No, you saved me, you saw me as a small girl, how could you think such thoughts about me?" the words rushed out of her mouth, she had spoken them before they could be held back by her fear.

"How could I ignore you?" his eyes wandered over her body and she slowly withdrew from his presence, but he was a determined man. He got what he wanted, and he wanted her. He advanced, and finally there was no where for Devany to go. She wouldn't be able to escape him. There were no men to distract him, no knights to rescue her, no Cynric, no Lancelot. She was alone, with him. "Why do you withdraw? Why do you tremble?" his words were that of mockery, he didn't care, he was toying with her.

"Please, leave me be. I'll do anything you ask, anything but _that_." She felt her eyes burn as the tears began to cloud her vision, but she fought them back, she couldn't let him see them. Cerdic was done speaking; he threw her roughly to his bed of furs. Devany tried to scramble to her feet, but he was upon her, his weight crushed the breath away. She gasped for air among her tears, she could smell him, feel him, and she knew what was to be her fate, but she refused to accept it. She struggled beneath him, but her attempt to save herself was futile. She felt his lips on her chest, her neck, then she felt them find her lips, and she sobbed. With Cynric or Lancelot, it had all felt so right, but with Cerdic, everything felt so wrong.

>>>

Lancelot felt the sweat drip down his face and neck. He was exhausted, and Cynric never seemed to falter, but he too was tiring. Then Cynric saw his relief as two stray Saxon soldiers burst into the hut and grabbed Lancelot.

"Don't kill him, I want the please of that myself." He sneered as he left the hut. He wanted to find Devany. It worried him that she had left; he feared the knights had whisked her back to Hadrian's Wall.

>>>

Devany felt Cerdic's hands explore her, and she remained rigid against him. She wished for someone, anyone to find them, to save her…

**I hope you enjoy the chapter, please let me know what you think!**

**Once again I'd like to mention that I have a new POTC2 fanfic. So if you like bootstrap bill please check out _100 years before the mast_**.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except a few of my own characters**

**Thanks for the reviews, their awesome! **

_Chapter 12_

Cynric's eyes battled the blasting snow as he searched for any sign of Devany. Was he too late? Had she already found safety at Hadrian's Wall?

He forced his way across the camp. It was littered with the bodies of Saxons, who despite their brutality and vast numbers, had fallen to the few, pitiful knights. The crimson blood painted the snow and he felt sick. How could such strong men, who had been bred merely to kill, lay cold at his feet, by these seven crusader's?

Cynric fought to regain his thought: Devany. He must find her, quickly, before it was too late. He sought his father's tent and ripped open the flaps. His father was always in the midst of battle, and it shocked him to not see his father's fury unleashed upon some poor, unworthy knight. He was paralyzed at the sight before him, paralyzed by rage, by shock, by fear even.

>> >

Lancelot struggled against his captor's as their greedy hands pulled at him roughly. Finally the men forced him to the ground, his face searing as it collided hard with the dirt floor. He could feel the warm flooding sensation as the blood sought out his cool flesh.

His mind raced, Cynric's words and the almost tender scene he had witnessed kept exploding through his mind. Yet, still he could not decide who he should despise. Should he hate Cynric for deceiving and tricking Devany into loving him, or should he hate Devany for her treachery?

>> >

There was Cerdic, few feet in front of him, kneeling above a trembling Devany. Her dress had been forced up, and her bodice had been ripped. She had fought hard to maintain what little dignity she still had intact.

She had never been so grateful to Cynric in all her life. Although the torture she had been forced to endure for the last few moments, which had seemed an eternity, had been excruciating, Cerdic hadn't claimed her yet. Devany felt sick at the thought of Cerdic taking control of her fragile frame. She would never forget how his hands had wandered up her thighs, how they had ripped her dress in their desperate search for her breasts, nor how his hungry lips had ravaged her mouth. Part of her almost feared that neither Lancelot nor Cynric would want her now. What man would want her tainted body?

"You were weak, too pathetic to take her for yourself. I refused to see such a fine beauty go to waste. I have desired for her for years, and if my son is too soft to have her, then I will." Cerdic's voice was husky and slightly out of breath. He almost seemed to be justifying his actions, perhaps he feared the rage coursing through his son's veins. Love is a dangerous illness, it corrupts all and can drive a person to do what is unbelievable. Perhaps Cerdic feared his son would bring down the sharp iron axe between his eyes for his greed. But Devany did not wish to remain shivering, beneath Cerdic. Her knee came up hard to his groin and he crippled on top of her.

Cynric felt as though fire had been pumped through his veins and he kicked Cerdic hard in the ribs, and off of Devany, who took no time to scramble to her feet. She cowered behind Cynric who tossed aside his axe. He advanced with a dagger, and for Cerdic, there would be no mercy. The cold iron nestled itself between Cerdic's ribs, and though his life was flowing from his body, and death had finally come for him, his eyes were still glass. Even in death, Cerdic had felt nothing; maybe he did not regret his actions. He had killed his own wife, why would taking his son's one love seem like such a betrayal? To Cerdic, life had such little value, so little that the same could be said for his own.

>> >

Tristan slithered around the hut and sought the open doorway. He saw Lancelot bloodied in the dirt. Saxons were large and vicious, but certainly stupid. He drew his saber as he slid into the hut. The one Saxon stood no chance, and was dead before he could realize he had been struck down. But the second drew his sword. He was unusually large, but he was sloppy and clumsy, he would not be long before he would join his friend. Tristan's sword made no sound as it slid through the air, and the Saxon's neck.

"Where would you be without me? Dead, I Think" grinned Tristan as he pulled Lancelot to his feet. "Where is Devany?"

>> >

Devany did not fight as Cynric drew her into him. She welcomed the warmth of his embrace, and she felt at peace. She could not possibly deny her saviour.

"I thought you might not come." Her words were choked out by the sobs that followed. And she collapsed into him, and he did not stop her. How horrible it must have been for her, he hated how his father had belittled her and invoked such fear. But there was nothing for it. All he could do was accept her tears and welcome her distressed body to his own.

"Again I find you in his arms. Was it wrong for me to come to you? I believed you loved me and would be in dire need of an escape from this place. Yet, again I find him holding you so close, comforting you. I do not know if I should kill him for tricking you so, or leave you to your fate." Lancelot's eyes were still black, and they seemed, for once, cold to her. It was too late, he despised her for the only comfort she could find: Cynric. Lancelot gave one last unforgiving look as he turned and left the tent. And Devany pulled herself from Cynric, who did not try to keep her there.

"Lancelot please, I know what you must think, but it is not so. He saved me, is it wrong that in your absence, I accept his aid? I still love you, I have never stopped." Her voice was pleading, but Lancelot was not fazed. He mounted his horse along side the other knights and he turned quickly and rode off. The knights followed, she had been forsaken, all but Arthur. He had not left; he stood there watching her, his solemn face asked all the questions his mouth could not.

"Come, we must head back to the wall, you need rest." His voice was soft as he extended a hand for her, and she took it. If she could make Arthur understand, perhaps he would help Lancelot see reason.

They rode all the way back to the wall in silence. Her gaze downcast, her cheeks flushed with the shame of the events just past. After the longest ride she had ever undergone, the horses found their way through the gates. They were home. They silently dismounted and she looked to Arthur, as the other knights quickly left the courtyard. His eyes searched hers and a small smile found his face.

"Love always finds a way."

**I know this chapter took forever, so thanks for being so patient. Hopefully it was worth the wait!!!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except a few of my own characters**

**Thanks for the reviews, their awesome! **

_Chapter 13_

The tension between the two of them was numbing. It had been days since the knights had returned from Devany's rescue, and still Lancelot ignored her very existence. For a few days Devany had felt hopeful, Arthur had seemed so sure that the two would be able to dissolve the problem and would be together. Yet there Devany sat in her room, day after day, and no word from Lancelot.

The snow came down harder and more bitter then ever before, so the courtyard remained empty; each knight occupying himself.

Finally, after Devany decided she would wait no longer to hear word from Lancelot, she decided to go to him. She would make him see that it was him who she loved. She grabbed her cloak, the stone hallways were as cold as Lancelot, and pulled it tightly around her shoulders and left her room. She slowly walked the passageway towards Lancelot's quarter's, she could feel her heart skip a beat and her legs began to feel weak. What if he would not listen to her? What if he would never forgive her? But she could not dwell on these thoughts. She must be strong and determined and persistent. He would see…he had to.

iiiiiiiii

" You must at least hear her out Lancelot, you have no idea what she went through there. You do not understand the circumstances." Arthur was beginning to get frustrated. Lancelot would not budge, he was furious and would not even listen to Devany's pleading.

"What else is there to understand? What I saw was not forced Arthur, she went into his arms willingly. She made her choice, and now I've made mine." His eyes were black as he turned his back n Arthur. "I presume you know how to show yourself out."

iiiiiiiiiiiii

Arthur's face was red and hot as he opened the door to leave Lancelot's rooms. He had nearly missed flattening Devany who had just been outside over-hearing the conversation. Not wanting to allow Lancelot the chance to reject her visit she had stood behind the door and quickly slipped in after Arthur had left, storming down the hallway.

She quietly pushed the door shut behind her. Lancelot stood face the window, his back to her.

"Arthur, I do not wish to discuss this anymore. Please just leave me be." He sounded irritated, and hurt, and Devany could not help but feel she deserved the pang of guilt that engulfed her.

"It's not Arthur." Her voice was soft and timid as she awaited his response.

"ah, well well, I do admit I'm shocked. I was under the belief that I had made my feelings about seeing you quite clear, but I guess I am mistaken." He kept his back to her, but this didn't stop her from understanding his words were that of spite. She had bruised his mighty ego and his heart, and now he would put up a wall of stone. He had blocked her out.

"I know your angry with me Lancelot, but please, hear me out. Then, only after that, hate me. I know what you think, that I just ran into his arms, that at the sight of him my love for you just dissolved. But that's not what happened, I swear it. He said he loved me, and that he would keep me there because he would not let me return to you. I denied him, I told him I love you and his keeping me would only make me hate him. I wanted to leave, to come back to you, but it's not like he would just let me walk away from it all, from him. I had no choice Lancelot." She had become frustrated, it seemed as though he was not even listening to her, as though she was not even there.

"How do I believe you Devany? How do I know you're not playing me as you claimed to play him?" he had finally turned to face her, his eyes flashed dangerously as he cut her with his remarks.

"You said you loved me once, love is trust my dear. Sometimes you have to open up to people, to trust them. It's ok to be vulnerable sometimes, to feel something for someone." She would fight back, he would not be the only one who was cruel.

"I FELT SOMETHING FOR YOU! I opened up to you, I trusted you…I LOVED YOU! And do you see how I am rewarded? You toyed with me, you played me for a fool." He quickly closed the gap between them, and Devany could feel the heat from his body on her own. "But it's done, your free of the Saxons and your free of me."

iiiiiiiiiiiii

Devany waited till she had found the safety of her room before she wiped the tears from her cheeks. He would never forgive her. Arthur was wrong, he had given her hope and in a matter of minutes Lancelot had made sure he had taken it all away. He would leave no hope for her.

That night the snow came down hard, and the wind tore through the fortress hallways and whistled in the rafters. The door to the courtyard was still ajar, as the white horse moved into the night. It quickly disappeared in the haze of white snow and was gone, but the eyes that glowed in the darkness, would continue to stare after it, into the long hours of the night.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except a few of my own characters**

**Thanks for the reviews, their awesome! **

_Chapter 14_

The air didn't seem so bitter here. It was cold, but there was no bite to the wind. It was so peaceful here, the muffled wind blowing along the coast, the soft crackling of the fire and the random creaking of the ice as it moved over the gentle waves. Devany pulled the thick woollen blanket tighter around her shoulders, as she stared into the fire.

As a much younger girl, living with Mycenae, she had stumbled across this hut many times. It was small, and was falling into disrepair, but it would do. All she knew was she needed to get away from everything: Lancelot, Cynric, everything she had known. It was now, all alone, she began to recall her time with Mycenae. She missed her so desperately, especially now. It was the one person who she could have turned to, who could have guided her through the fog in her mind. But she would never have Mycenae's kind heart and extensive experience to help her anymore, she was on her own.

As she thought of the woman who had raised her, she recalled the woman who had brought her into this world…her mother. Although she had been young when it had happened, she remembered every detail of the haunting story as if it had happened just yesterday.

_The night seemed as though it would last forever. Kabira hated the hot, restless nights, when all she could do was toss and turn in the crisp linen sheets. Her mother could sooth her into a deep, relaxing sleep, but from time to time, she would awake to find her mother gone. She would find no comfort with her father; he was a harsh man, perhaps too harsh to have a young, spirited wife and daughter. Her mother had only been seventeen when she wed her father. It had been a quick ordeal, as her father wanted a wife quickly, and a son to carry on the bloodline even quicker. To his dismay, her mother had given birth to a girl. This had instantly caused him to lose favour in her, and within weeks, he had taken a mistress. Over the years, he gained more of these women. All thin and straight, all of whom had produced boys. After years of neglect, Kabira's mother took a lover of her own. _

_Even through his own infidelity, he quickly grew jealous and enraged. And when he could not track down this mysterious man, he decided it would end with his wife, and the mistake of girl, who was his daughter. _

_It was twilight when they came for her and her mother. The moon was veiled by misty clouds, and no stars would shine that night. It was so dark and so still, and it was the perfect protection, as the two fled from the city. It didn't matter how far she would have to travel, if only she could save her daughter. _

_Once she reached the cold, empty shores of Britannia, she knew this place was the haven she had been looking for. She had travelled far enough; her and her daughter could be safe in this place. How wrong she had been. Her husband had tracked her to this land of mist, and it was there, on these very shores that he finally caught up with her. Kabira only remembered fleeing as her mother fought back her father. She had never stayed to see the flash of the blade that would end her mother's life._

_It was days before Cerdic had stumbled across her. She was exhausted, and then there she was, in the confines of the cozy, loving cottage. Mycenae took no time at all loving Kabira as her own. _

Her eyes fluttered, the warmth of the fire had taken its toll on her, as her eyes closed.

IIIIIIIIIII

The sunlight glittered against the snowy landscape as Lancelot peered through the window. The air was cool and crisp, yet so refreshing. The only thing more refreshing had only ever been Devany. So clever, so charming, so beautiful: the perfect woman. And the only woman he had been more then willing to wait for.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15:

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except a few of my own characters**

**Sorry this took so long, I hope you enjoy it!! Please keep the reviews coming!!**

Chapter 15:

Devany eyes fluttered open, the fire had burnt down to glowing embers hours before, and she was left in darkness. She faintly made out the silhouette of her horse a few feet away, and even he could sleep peacefully.

Although the forest seemed so peaceful, the moon peering through the trees and not a single breeze, yet something forced a shiver down her spine. Was it merely the fact that she had walked out on both of the men in her life? Or maybe it was the fact that she would never be able to choose one. Lancelot was the chivalrous knight, his amour shone brightly, and he had a kind heart, which for years had been shielded by a cool, icy exterior. Then there was Cynric, the rugged Saxon, in his furs and leather, and though he tried to fashion himself after his father, he still had some feeling left; his heart was still open, at least to her.

Devany's mind wandered, perhaps if she had not been thinking to intensely, she would have heard the snow crunching behind her. It was the sound snow makes under a boot, the eyes glowed in moonlight, observing the peaceful scene approaching. She looked so soft, so serene; how could anyone resist the way her eyes shimmered in the moonlight, or the way her hair wrapped around her shoulders.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, the way they would when she finally made the connection that there was someone there with her. Her eyes slowly scanned through the trees around her, careful not to move her head, and then from the trees, the ghost which had not visited her for such a long time.

"You're the last person I expected to see, what made you come?" her voice was hoarse, and broke, either from the cold or her shock.

" I'm still so angry, there are no words to describe exactly how I feel right now, I don't know what made me follow you. I suppose part of me has forgiven you." Lancelot's voice was deep and so smooth; it made her heart skip a beat in her chest, and forced her to stand. She took a couple of steps towards him; she wouldn't get too close of course.

"I know you're angry, you have every right. I never meant for things to turn out like this. I have two men in my life, and I know I have to choose. I'm just so scared." Her voice cracked again and her eyes welled up with tears that scorched her cheeks. Lancelot closed the distance between them and pulled her towards him. He had never been able to stand watching her cry, even being as angry as he was with her; his heart ached as the tears clung to her eyelashes.

"Tell me Devany, what is it that scares you?" he wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb, and if his arms hadn't been around her waist, her knees would have buckled. Devany pressed her face to his chest, she sobbed quietly against him. Just the two, alone there in the dark as small soft flakes of snow fell around them.

"If I make the wrong choice, it could cost me."

"Cost you what Devany?" Lancelot pushed her away a bit, he was losing his temper.

_Why had he even come? Did he think that alone in the forest, in the middle of the night that she would profess her love for him, and him alone and he'd carry her back to the wall? _

"My life, my happiness, anything that can be lost if I were to pick you instead of Cynric, or him instead of you. I've known him for most of my life, and years later he still wants me. What if I want to be with you, and you tire of me? What then? You bed women like it's nothing, and I think it means nothing to you, just some company for a night. I want to be company for the rest of your life." she turned her back to him, at least Cynric didn't let her know about his conquests the way Lancelot paraded his around the wall. Cynric made her feel as though she was the only one, and she would be the only one, forever.

"I only want you Devany, I've only ever wanted you. Those other girls mean nothing to me, that's why I tire of them so quickly. I've waited for you for years, but if you'd rather spend your time with a bloodthirsty Saxon, one we've been trying to protect people from for over a decade the go ahead." His eyes burned, she could see the anger rising up behind them, she felt scared and safe all at once. It was now or never, she had to show Lancelot that she wanted him, she had one shot and she had to prove it to him. She shot towards him, her hands grabbed his chin and she pressed her lips to his. She wondered what this kiss would prove, would he be able to feel her love for him in only one kiss?

Lancelot's hand tangled themselves in her hair, while the other pulled her closer to him, they separated, out of breath, bodies still pressed against each other.

"Tell me Lancelot: What else should I do?"


End file.
